


Closing Walls and Ticking Clocks

by Sholio



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, Gen, Timeline Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 13:48:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9823322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sholio/pseuds/Sholio
Summary: For a prompt on Dreamwidth:The Flash, Harry Wells and Barry bonding in the lab, circa S2-S3.





	

**Author's Note:**

> [Originally posted here](http://ruuger.dreamwidth.org/1019961.html?thread=5596985#cmt5596985), and [also on Tumblr](http://sholiofic.tumblr.com/post/157267816188/written-for-valentines-friendship-commentfic-fest). This is set in the 3x03/3x04 gap.
> 
> Title from Coldplay's "Clocks."

"Since when does your Earth have quantum entanglement gun technology, Allen?"

Barry glanced up from the computer screen and frowned at the item in Wells's hand. "I didn't know we did either. Since Flashpoint, apparently."

"Huh." Wells studied it, turned it around to look at both ends, then put it carefully back among the clutter on the lab bench and returned his attention to the adjustments he was making to the latest pair of Cisco's goggles.

"Do you keep looking for differences?" Barry burst out, spinning around on his lab stool, the computer program he was working on abandoned. "Between -- you know -- the reality you and I both remember and --"

"I know." Wells laid down the goggles and took off his glasses to rub his eyes.

"C'mon, man, tell me it's not just me."

There was a quick sideways twist of Wells's mouth, something not quite a smile. "Of course I do. I have been ever since I arrived on your Earth and realized what had happened."

Barry had to catch his breath. He just didn't have anyone to talk to about it. No one at all, except Wells and Jesse, who had lived through that other timeline with him -- the timeline that was different in so many large and small ways from the one he lived in now.

A broken cup, never put together quite the same.

How many of his memories were still real? How many of his triumphs, his tragedies, his moments of light and laughter had happened differently here, or hadn't happened at all? He remembered things that _couldn't_ have happened the same, not in a world where he and Cisco had spent months at odds, where Iris and her dad hadn't been speaking to each other.

And yet, somehow he could deal with the big things better than the little things. He hated knowing that he'd hurt and alienated Cisco, but in a way, it was easier to deal with because it was so huge. It was the stupid little differences that had him looking at everything from the coffee cups to the lab equipment; it was those little differences that kept tripping him up in conversation and reminding him of everything he'd done, everything he'd changed.

And the silence between them, with all that history in it, was getting awkward.

"So you tell me," Barry said, "has there always been a skylight over Caitlin's work station?"

"I ..." Wells paused. Stared into the distance. "Yes," he said. "Yes, Allen, that's always been there."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure." Pause. "Mostly sure."

"Right? Dude. We both worked in there for _years._ Well, months in your case. Most of a year. Why are these things so hard to remem -- hey!"

Wells, looking irritated, had thrown a screwdriver at him. Barry caught it with a quick burst of superspeed and set it on the lab bench behind him.

"Are anger management classes a thing on your Earth? Because you really should look into those --"

Wells swiveled around on his lab stool and crossed his arms. "Does it matter if there's a skylight, Allen? Does it matter who created your metahuman panic button and when they did it, does it matter if we could or would have beaten Zoom the way we did in the timeline we both remember, does it matter if there's always been a third stall in the Level 9 men's restroom --"

"You noticed that too, huh?"

"The point is -- _stop._ Stop, Barry, before it drives you insane." Wells leaned forward; he hadn't put his glasses back on, and his eyes were intense and tired. "What do you think I've tried not to do, ever since going back to my Earth? Do you know how easy it would be to spend my life cataloguing the differences between my Earth and this one, between my Earth and what it might have been if I hadn't made the choices I made? Everything I saw here that made me realize ... Snow and Ramon are dead there, they're dead because of a decision I made. All the property destruction, the lives lost, the rogue metas who would have been ordinary men and women, living their lives --" He stopped and took a deep breath. After a moment he went on. "Those might-have-beens will destroy you. This is your world now. Deal with it."

He was right, and Barry knew he was right. Still, there was only one thing he could say.

"I _knew_ I was right about the Level 9 restroom."

Wells looked like he was about to choke, whether on a laugh or a scream it was hard to say, but he was starting to grin as he spun his stool back around and picked up the disassembled goggles.

"And you're right," Barry said, more quietly. "I know you're right. It's just ... hard not to."

"Of course I'm right." Wells glanced up. "Do you have the 001 Phillips-head over there?"

"Yeah, because you threw it at me, and for that reason, I'm not giving it back."


End file.
